


The Good Type of Snitch

by hailqiqi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Lance is a morose drunk, Langst, Pidge is an emotional drunk, Smug ass Green Lion, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 16:24:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12136392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hailqiqi/pseuds/hailqiqi
Summary: Pidge is dragged out of bed by the Green Lion.





	The Good Type of Snitch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Morie_mordant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morie_mordant/gifts).



Pidge grumbled under her breath as she shuffled down the hall to her hangar.

 

Why the hell was she even up? It had to be something like three in the morning and she’d actually been asleep for once, but noooo. Green had to nudge her again and again until she dragged her ass out of bed, threw her slippers on and headed for the hangar.

 

It wouldn’t be so bad if the lion would tell her what was so important, but the only clue she’d been given was some vague sense of urgency and a desire for her company. Which made no damn sense, since they were mentally linked and could share each other’s company no matter where she was on the ship, but apparently tonight she had to be in the stupid hangar.

 

The sense of smugness at the back of her brain once she’d started moving wasn’t making her any happier about the whole thing. Pidge had almost given up and headed back to her room more than once, but each time she did she got a blast of worry and a feeling of ‘Please, I need you to come here’ and that was enough to keep her moving towards her destination.

 

The doors slid open and she glared up at the Green Lion, still in half a mind to scold it for dragging her out of bed so late, but the fight drained out of her the instant she recognised the other figure in the room.

 

“…Lance?”

 

Lance was sitting hunched over on the lion’s platform, his back against its paw and his elbows on his knees. He looked up at the intrusion, staring at her blearily for a confused moment before breaking into a sloppy grin.

 

“Pidge…? ‘Sup?” He swung his head all the way back to stare up at the Green Lion’s face and poked his tongue out at it. “Snitch.”

 

Gentle amusement fluttered across the back of Pidge’s mind as she started towards him. Pidge hadn’t been expecting this explanation for the contradicting messages, but she had to admit it made sense. Not an emergency, but definitely concerning.

 

“Lance…?” She ventured again. “What are you doing here?”

 

He shrugged in response, taking a swig from a bottle she hadn’t noticed before. “Talkin’? Dunno, just quiznak on my mind.”

 

“So why are you talking to my lion and not yours?” Pidge asked as she plopped herself down on the floor next to him, leaning sideways against her lion to face him. “And what are… Wait, is that alcohol? Have you been drinking?!”

 

She leaned over him and made a grab for the bottle, bringing it to her nose and sniffing. “Ugh, what is this stuff?”

 

Lance shrugged again, another lopsided grin on his face. “No idea, but it’s strong. D’ya want some?”

 

“No,” she replied shortly, frowning as she handed it back to him. “So? Why are you talking to my lion, and not yours?”

 

He looked away, slumping a little as he shifted uneasily. Pidge wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him look like this. His shoulders were hunched, his handsome features drooped heavily, and her heart sunk as she realised that he was avoiding her gaze. Lance always looked you in the eye, no matter what he was saying, so for him to be shying away from her meant that something must have been really wrong.

 

A sudden wave of desperation gripped her as she felt the all-too-familiar sensation of not knowing what the hell to do and she leaned forward to prod him, nudge him, poke him, anything to make him tell her what was wrong and just _make everything normal again_.  A warm weight pressed against her mind before her hand made contact, settling over her consciousness with a warm reassurance and flashing her the image of a lion staking out a waterhole. _Patience,_ the lion chided. Watch and wait.

 

She swallowed the panic back and listened.

 

A few silent moments passed and then Lance began fidgeting. He lifted the bottle to his lips and gulped down a mouthful, glancing at her sideways, then looked away and studied the bands of dark and light making up the wall of the hangar. Then he looked down and picked at his shoelaces for a moment before glancing at her again.

 

Pidge raised an eyebrow at him, but otherwise stayed still.

 

Two more ticks and he cracked, throwing his head back with a thud that made Pidge wince. He must have been too drunk to notice, though, because all he did was screw his eyes tightly closed, shaking his head before saying: “Idunhvlietawkoo.”

 

Pidge blinked. “Uh, what?”

 

Lance sighed and shifted to face her. “Dunno which lion to talk to. Blue’s Allura’s now, Red’ll tell Keith an’ I can’t really hear her. Black’s out, she’ll tell Keith too. Yellow will tell Hunk who’ll come drag me to bed.” He finally met her gaze, bleary blue eyes imploring her for acceptance. “I figured Green’d be like you. Wouldn’t let me down.”

 

She snorted at that, fighting back the heat threatening to rise to her cheeks at the implication. “Green did drag me down here, but she only wanted me to come and keep you company.”

 

Lance shrugged and toasted the lion with the bottle before taking a sip. “The good type of snitch, I guess. I’ll take it.”

 

They sat in companionable silence for a while, their soft breaths and the sound of the bottle the only noise in the hangar. Pidge worried her lip between her teeth and studied his profile.

 

Did he need to talk about it with a person? Should she ask what was wrong? Or just sit here in silence with him?

 

People weren’t really her forte. Pidge liked it when the correct input resulted in the corresponding output, but that really only worked on computers and people like Keith. Lance was a complete enigma to her.

 

She tried nudging Green for some more advice, but the lion just sent her a mental shrug in response. Great. So she was on her own then.

 

“Aren’t you gonna ask?”

 

He was looking pointedly away from her. Pidge considered him for a moment, then shrugged. “You’ll tell me if you want to, whether I ask or not.”

 

Lance chuckled at that and leaned forward, elbows on knees, swinging the bottle back and forth in his fingers.

 

“I would tell you, but I can’t. I’m drunk and you’re sober. No bueno.”

 

Pidge raised an eyebrow at that. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

 

Lance turned to grin and waggle his eyebrows at her. “Maybe,” he said, then paused, the bottle at his lips and a frown on his face. “Wait, how old are you? I don’t wanna be getting a pre-teen drunk.”

 

“Oh, please,” Pidge scoffed, irritation flaring up as she reached forwards and grabbed the bottle from his hand, “I’m half-Italian. I’ve been drinking wine since I was eight.”

 

She took a small sip and frowned at the taste, screwing up her nose in disgust. Definitely not wine, but not that nunvill stuff either, so it could be worse. Lance laughed at her expression and she retaliated with a glare, then took a larger mouthful, swallowing before adding: “And anyway, I’m sixteen.”

 

“You’re sixteen? Seriously?”

 

“Think so. Should be by now.” She poked her tongue out at him and took another sip, her heart slowly sinking as realisation set in. “Wait, did you really think I was twelve?”

 

He’d never see her as anything more than a friend if he thought she was twelve. He didn’t see her as anything more than a friend anyway, but… Tendrils of amusement echoed faintly in her mind at her dismay, and Pidge pushed it away. She needed to focus on the problem in front of her at the moment, and if Green wasn’t going to help then she could be ignored.

 

“Nah, I had no idea,” Lance admitted. “Figured you were somewhere between twelve and twenty. Was betting on seventeen, actually, so sixteen’s not far off.”

 

“Huh.”

 

He reached over and took the bottle from her, studying her carefully as he sipped. Pidge’s cheeks grew hot under his scrutiny but she met his gaze resolutely. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of making her flustered.

 

Something clicked in his expression and he turned away, carefully placing the bottle down a foot or so from his hip before facing her again. There was a glint in his eye that set her on edge, and she mentally steeled herself for whatever idiot trick he was about to pull.

 

“You’re just so little, thought ya might be younger,” he said, leaning towards her.

 

She held her ground. “Runs in the family.”

 

“Mmmhmm,” he intoned as he leaned closer, coming dangerously close to invading her personal space, and Pidge found herself fighting the urge to back down or look away. “I betcha if I held you, I could tuck you right under my chin…”

 

“Wait, wha- Wah?!” Lance’s strong arms suddenly wrapped around her and dragged her onto his lap sideways, holding her tightly against his chest. Warmth radiated all the way down her side from the contact and her face felt like it was on fire. “L-Lance, what are you doing?!”

 

His arms tightened around her, preventing her from squirming away, and she felt the shrug rather than saw it. “Testing it out.” A heavy weight dropped onto the top of her head, and she felt Lance let out a sigh. “See? Was right. You fit just here.”

 

Pidge shoved weakly at his chest, then gave in and slumped against him, wriggling to get comfortable. It wasn’t like it was unpleasant, and she had to admit she’d imagined sitting like this more than once. Just maybe not under these circumstances.

 

And speaking of circumstances…

 

“If you’re going to keep me here, are you at least going to tell me what’s wrong?”

 

“Nope. You’re still too sober.” His chest rumbled with laughter and she smacked her hand against it, then held it out.

 

“Pass me the bottle, then.”

 

—————

[The amazing mitzpitz09 blew my mind by illustrating some of this scene!](http://mitzpitz09.tumblr.com/post/171596030356/for-hailqiqi-they-know-why-hey-no-dont)

—————

 

Fifteen minutes later Pidge was having trouble reciting pi past the twentieth digit, and she figured that made her tipsy enough to talk to.

 

“So,” she shifted to lean her head on his shoulder properly and grinned up at him, enjoying his warmth and the way he grinned back at her. “Quiznak on your mind. Spill.”

 

Lance’s face fell immediately and she turned into him, burying her face in his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his waist. “Hey, no, don’t look like that. You’re meant to be the happy one.”

 

“Yeah?” His voice was soft as he threaded the fingers of one hand through her hair, his other tightening around her waist. His chin rested on her hair and he let out a sigh before admitting, “Sometimes I don’t feel like that, though.”

 

“…Why?” Her question was muffled in his jacket, but she knew he’d heard it when he let out a cynical laugh.

 

“Why? You want a list?”

 

His voice dripped with sarcasm, and Pidge squirmed uncomfortably to look at him again. They locked gazes for a moment, mere inches between them, and then Pidge leaned away and straightened her posture, trying to look as dignified as she possibly could while sitting in his lap.

 

“Yes,” she said, nodding for emphasis. “A list. And numbered, for clarity’s sake.” She took a thoughtful sip from the now half-empty bottle before adding, “Definitely numbered. You can’t colour-code a list but we still need to have some sort of referencing system for when we work on the solutions, otherwise everything’s going to be a…a…”

 

Lance grinned. “A rhinoceros?”

 

She glared and poked him in the chest, passing the bottle back as she did. “No! It’ll be a mess. A mess.”

 

Lance looked away for a moment, taking a sip before returning his gaze to hers. “Okay. There’s not many though.”

 

“That’s good?”

 

“I dunno. They’re big ones.” He took a deep breath and continued, his eyes still on her. “I like a girl who doesn’t like me back. I’m the weakest paladin. And Blue dumped me for Allura. That’s it.”

 

Pidge screwed her eyes shut, her breath catching in her throat as she fought against the wave of misery threatening to engulf her at hearing he liked someone else. She knew he must, but hearing it still stung in a way she hadn’t expected.

 

It must have been the alcohol. Yeah, that was why she was so emotional. She wouldn’t be thinking this way if she hadn’t been drinking.

 

“Pidge?”

 

She opened her eyes at the concerned question and quickly shook her head, trying to shake the feelings away. What were they talk…? Oh yeah.

 

“Um,” she started. “Uh, you didn’t number them.”

 

Lance snorted. “’S’only three.”

 

Pidge let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding, willing herself to relax again. “Okay, let’s do this. Two and Three first.”

 

She definitely needed to be more drunk before she tackled One.  Preferably unconscious.

 

And was that Green laughing at her? She frowned at the sensation, then dismissed it, trying to refocus her attention on Lance. “Right. Two. Uh…?”

 

Lance took another sip, shrugging. “I’m the weakest paladin.”

 

Pidge narrowed her eyes at him. “Elaborate.”

 

He hunched in on himself, looking away as he started talking. “I am. You’re like, this super smart genius who controls all the computers in the universe. Hunk’s crazy smart and works out cool new moves and fixes everything. Allura’s an amazing fighter and she bonded with Blue way faster than any of us bonded with our lions. Keith’s the awesome pilot who can fly anything and who Black chose as the best leader. And I’m just… I just shoot things.”

 

Pidge stared at him. Quiznak. What was she meant to say to that?

 

“Uh…”

 

“Look, it makes sense why Black chose Keith over me. Keith’s just better than me,” he began gesturing with his hands as he continued. “But why’d Blue have to dump me too? We were tight.”

 

He waved his crossed fingers in front of Pidge’s face to emphasise the point, oblivious to Pidge’s wide-eyed stare.

 

“I just… I guess there’s nothing special about me,” he slumped against the lion’s paw, all the energy draining out of him in one go. He rested his hands loosely on Pidge’s hips, looking up at the transparent bay door above as he continued. “I’m a good stand-in and that’s all. The replacement paladin. Just a warm body to fill the spot until someone better comes along.”

 

He raised the bottle, toasting the stars bitterly, then brought it to his lips again.

 

Maybe it was the defeated tone in his voice. Maybe it was the melancholy look in his eyes. Maybe it was the utter nonsense he was spouting.

 

Whatever it was, her brain suddenly caught up and Pidge _snapped_.

 

She surged upwards, grabbing the bottle out of his hand and throwing it to the ground in front of them, not caring as it spilled its contents across the floor before dropping down the speeder shaft.

 

He stared at her, temporarily stunned, and she glared back.

 

“That’s not true. None of that is true.”

 

Lance laughed bitterly and leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers in an intimate gesture that would have made Pidge blush if she weren’t so angry. She threaded an arm around his back, gripping his shirt with more force than strictly necessary, and maintained the glare until he closed his eyes to avoid her gaze, a pained smile still on his lips.

 

“You said it yourself.” His voice was so low, Pidge almost didn’t catch it. She frowned, nudging him with her nose, and he leaned back, watching her with sad eyes before shrugging and looking away. “I’m just the goofball.”

 

The distant smash of the bottle finally hitting the ground echoed softly up the shaft.

 

“What? When did I say that?”

 

“You don’t remember?”

 

“Obviously not,” she said, tugging at his shirt to make him face her.

 

He looked down at her again and sighed.

 

“We were all…” He gave an abstract wave with one hand. “Talkin’. ‘Bout the Black Lion, and the leadership thing, and you said everybody has their thing. And I’m the goofball.”

 

Pidge’s mouth fell open in an ‘oh’ as she suddenly realised what he was talking about.

 

“So, y’know… That’s my thing. I’m just the goofball. I’m not useful, and you don’t-“

 

“Lance.” She cut him off. “Did you think I was insulting you?”

 

He shrugged. “No? I mean, it was the truth, right?”

 

“No, no, no,” Pidge shook her head, then immediately grabbed onto his shoulders when the motion made her head spin. Warm hands on her back steadied her and she closed her eyes for a moment, waiting for the world to settle down before continuing. “Lance, I didn’t mean it like that.”

 

“Don’t see how you could mean it any other way,” he replied, frowning.

 

“Just… You… Argh!” She threw her hands up in frustration, then brought them to his cheeks, holding his face firmly in place. “You being a goofball is one of the things I love about you!”

 

His eyes narrowed in response, but he didn’t say anything.

 

“Look, I…” She looked away, biting her cheek as her hands slid down to rest loosely against his collarbone. Did she want to tell him this?

 

A quick glance back at him showed he was still focused on her, that same disbelieving look in his eyes.

 

Better tell him.

 

“Look, after the Kerberos mission went down, I didn’t really laugh.  Like, I don’t think I even smiled. Not until I met you.” She looked back up at him and was pleased to see some kind of understanding dawn across his face. “You kind of… You pulled me out of a really dark place, without even trying. And you still do it now, all the time.”

 

Kneeling up in his lap, she met his gaze dead-on and poked him in the chest for emphasis. “I _like_ that you’re a goofball, Lance. It’s one of the things I value about you most.”

 

Lance’s only response was a wide-eyed stare.

 

“And the paladin thing? You’re a good paladin, man. You’ve saved my life how many times?” She started counting on her fingers, but then gave up and just waved her hands in his face. “Lance, you’re our sharpshooter, you’ve got a great mind for strategy, and you keep your head when we’re all in a tight spot. I always feel safer when we’re together on missions. I _need_ you. The whole _team_ needs you.

 

“So don’t…” She trailed off, biting her cheek, eyes slipping down to his jaw. “Don’t… Just don’t think we don’t, okay? I’m sorry you’re feeling this way, but we all think you’re important.”

 

She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder and arms slipping around his waist.

 

“Pidge…”

 

His head dropped down to rest on hers, then suddenly his arms around her squeezed and she found herself hugged tightly against his chest. Pidge hugged him back, foolishly hoping that the simple act would be enough to heal the hurt he’d been hanging onto.

 

She knew all too well that stuff like that didn’t just vanish overnight, but maybe it would be a start.

 

Lance’s arms loosened up, and she readjusted until she was sideways in his lap again, leaning comfortably against his chest.

 

“So, what was the third one?”

 

“Blue.”

 

“Did you ever think maybe it was just that Red really wanted you?”

 

She felt his chest heave as he let out a short laugh in response.

 

“What? Don’t you get along with Red?”

 

“I do, kinda…” Lance slumped a little until he could lean his cheek on the top of her head, then continued. “I just miss Blue. And I think Red misses Keith. She’s fun to fly, but sometimes I feel like it’s unfair that I’m the one who had to change. Why couldn’t you or Hunk have swapped instead?”

 

“Hunk didn’t want to swap. And can you imagine me with the sword?”

 

She felt him grin against her hair. “You’d be terrifying.”

 

“Exactly. Plus, Red’s second-in-command, and you wanted to be leader more than me.”

 

Lance fell silent.

 

“That was…” The arm around her waist tightened, then he sighed and relaxed it again. “That was more me wanting to prove that I could. I didn’t actually want to.”

 

_Ah._ “You just didn’t wanna feel like you were losing to Keith?”

 

“Yeah, something like that.”

 

Maybe it was the alcohol still buzzing in her head, but Pidge felt distinctly pleased that she’d managed to figure that one out. Her people skills were finally improving.

 

Lance brought his free hand - the one not around her waist - up to her elbow and started tracing lazy circles through her windbreaker. His breathing was deep and even, and it felt like warmth radiated from his entire being. It was nice. Relaxing.

 

It felt right.

 

“So, that leaves problem number one…” Lance trailed off, and Pidge swallowed.

 

It no longer felt right.

 

“You, uh…” Pidge screwed her eyes shut, trying to find some way to steel her heart against what was coming next. “You like someone. And she doesn’t like you back.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“And you want my advice?” She really wasn’t drunk enough for this.

 

“I…guess? I dunno. Maybe I just wanna complain, because it sucks.”

 

Pidge laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I know that. It definitely sucks.”

 

Lance leaned back in surprise, trying to get a look at her. “You like someone?”

 

“Maybe,” she replied, steadfastly avoiding his gaze.

 

“Who?”

 

She really regretted throwing that bottle.

 

“Not telling.”

 

“Hm.”

 

Pidge took a deep breath, then tapped his chest a few times. “Maybe you should try ditching the pick-up lines. They’re kinda cheap. And we all know Allura hates them.”

 

He laughed, a low, warm sound that Pidge found far too pleasing, then pulled her tighter against him and rested his cheek on her head again. “I’m not talking about Allura.”

 

Pidge blinked. Unexpected. But… Okay. Pidge had long lost count of the number of alien girls he’d flirted with, so it must be one of them.

 

“My advice about the pick-up lines still stands.”

 

“I’ve never tried a line on her.”

 

Pidge frowned. “Why not?”

 

Lance fell silent as he considered his answer. She felt his arms around her tighten as he pressed his face into her hair, taking a deep breath before falling still.

 

Was it a guy? Was he gay, and all the flirting was just a cover-up? He should know that that would make no difference to how anyone saw him, but she could understand if that was what made him so nervous. Maybe it would be easier for him to come out and say it if she asked.

 

He cut her off before she could get the words out.

 

“She’s an actual genius. She’s way too smart to fall for a line.”

 

And just like that, all the pieces suddenly slid into place for Pidge. The touches, the looks, why he was with Green instead of Blue or Red, why he always kept her company late at night and why he always insisted she explain whatever she was working on to him even when he obviously didn’t care. He liked her. Lance liked her.

 

Lance actually liked her and that didn’t make sense because she wasn’t his type but it did make sense because it explained everything and he was sitting here telling her he liked her so that meant he must like her and… and… just…

 

“…What?” She squeaked.

 

Green was laughing at her.

 

“I just… She’s really smart,” Lance’s arms suddenly tightened around her, and his next words fell out in a rush. “She’s smart and stupidly pretty, even if she doesn’t try to be pretty or think she’s pretty or whatever, she just is. And she’s funny. And brave and fierce and vulnerable and caring and can be really dorky and stupid for someone so clever and I just…”

 

He took a deep breath, then pressed his cheek against her head, holding her even closer.

 

“I fell for her. I dunno when or why or how, but I did and…and I’m sorry, Pidge. I didn’t mean to. And I know you’re way too smart to fall for someone like me.”

 

“I… What?”

 

Lance suddenly began pulling away, lifting her gently off his lap. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you up and I shouldn’t have told you that and made it awkward. I’m gonna… go. Yeah.”

 

“Wait… Wait!” Pidge’s hands grappled for purchase, tugging on his shoulders to stop him from putting her down. “I’m too _what?!_ ”

 

Lance paused, and she took the opportunity to knock his arms off her and kneel up on his thighs again.

 

Now she was face-to-face with him she could see the way his brows furrowed with confusion, the way his eyes searched her face for answers. He looked so vulnerable in this moment, yet so defeated, and maybe she should have been the Red Paladin instead of him because for the third time that night all she felt was pissed off.

 

“How could you think that?!” She demanded, hands smacking against his shoulders. “You didn’t know?!”

 

“I… Know what?” Lance floundered.

 

“Know I… Argh!” She threw her head back in frustration. “Oh my god, Lance, how could you not know?! Even Keith knew!”

 

“Keith?”

 

“Yes, Keith!” A rumble echoed off the walls as Green began laughing again, this time out loud. “Even I-don’t-know-how-people-work Keith figured out I had a crush on you, and you’re sitting here moping because you’ve just gone and decided that _I’m too smart to ever like you?!_ Ugh!”

 

Lance froze, shocked, and Pidge leaned forward to smack her head against his collarbone.

 

“You’re such an _idiot_. Oh my god, Lance, I have liked you for forever and I knew there wasn’t a hope in hell of you ever liking me back but-”

 

“Hey, Pidge?” Lance’s voice was soft as his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight against him and cutting her rant off.

 

The movement doused the flames of Pidge’s anger and she froze as she suddenly became very aware of what she’d just been saying, and to who.

 

Quiznak.

 

“Look at me for a second?”

 

She buried her head in his chest, trying to even out her breath and calm her pounding heart before nervously meeting his gaze.

 

Gentle fingers tilted her chin up and the next thing she knew soft lips were pressed against her own. She barely had a chance to register the contact before he was pulling away, stopping too far for her liking yet so close that she could feel his warm breath on her lips, his blue eyes searching her own for some answer she wasn’t sure she had.

 

For the first time in her life, her thoughts were quiet. There was nothing in her mind but the gentle feeling of his fingers on her skin and the soft sounds of their breath.

 

It was nice.

 

Lance broke the silence first. “You like me back?”

 

Pidge responded with a short nod, blushing.

 

“So… We like each other.”

 

He grinned at her shyly, his dark cheeks dusted pink, and she smiled back.

 

Words suddenly felt a little beyond her, but she hoped he’d got the message. If the way his eyes lit up were any indication, he definitely had.

 

“Okay,” he breathed, nodding slowly. “Okay.”

 

And then Pidge closed the distance between them, her lips meeting his again as his arms came around her to hold her more securely, tingles of electricity shooting through her wherever they touched. Her arms wound around his neck and she tilted her head for a better angle, pleased with the way he moaned slightly as his mouth slid against her own. He tasted like whatever had been in that bottle, and she wondered if he thought it tasted better on her lips, too.

 

They pulled apart to breathe and then met again, pressing against each other more firmly, kissing more deeply, holding on more tightly. Each kiss was warm and sweet and full of promise, and Pidge was amazed at how easy this was. It felt right.

 

She pulled back to rest her forehead against his, smiling as she looked into the deep blue of his eyes, and sent a mental thank-you to the Green Lion for dragging her out of bed that night.


End file.
